


daybreak

by deliveryservice



Series: #tsukkibdayweek2020 [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Gen, bc who can resist our sunshine boy lbr, gen but can be read as pre-slash too, happy birthday week tsukki!!! this one's for u, or: hinata worms his way into tsukki's heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:55:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26552470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deliveryservice/pseuds/deliveryservice
Summary: Kei Tsukishima was the moon, guarding the sky at its darkest, existing as Karasuno’s silent, unexpected protector; but Hinata Shouyou was the sun, the light and fire needed to liven the sky after the night had passed. One wouldn’t be able to unleash its full potential without the other, and Kei had every intention of taking the sun under his wing, and to protect it with his shadow, letting it heal and recuperate, whenever the sun got too close to losing its fume.The moon, after all, protected the sun to keep its rays from dying out.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou & Tsukishima Kei
Series: #tsukkibdayweek2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1933990
Comments: 1
Kudos: 43
Collections: TsukkiBdayWeek2020





	daybreak

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY WEEK TO MY SON!!! this one was written for the prompt moon!

Anger couldn’t even begin to describe the white-hot rage that stormed within him the moment he saw Hinata standing beside him in Shiratorizawa’s gym, acting like he was actually  _ deserving _ to be there—like he was invited, that idiot—rather than the truth: That Hinata was inviting himself, that he wasn’t even  _ welcomed _ .

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing here,” Kei hissed, after Hinata came back to the gym—even after being singled out by the coaches—not looking like he had any plans to turn back and go home. “But you weren’t  _ invited _ , idiot. Do you really feel the need to involve yourself in every little thing?” He seethed, not bothering to conceal his open fury.

He never expected Hinata to back down, even in the face of Kei’s fury; that’s just not the type of person Hinata was, in all the time Kei had known him. Still, open defiance wasn’t a look Kei liked, especially when Kei’s anger wasn’t petty, much less  _ wrong _ . 

Volleyball had been better, for Kei, ever since the fateful match against Shiratorizawa. Kei found his moment, and it fueled him to be better. Fueled him enough that he’d gone to the training camp, even if he could’ve turned down the offer, even if the Kei from three months ago would’ve said no, point blank. (Not that the Kei from three months ago was likely to have been invited in the first place.)

Some part of it affected his competitive drive: He’d always had a rivalry with Hinata, but now that he’d tasted his first taste of his moment with volleyball, Kei knew he wanted to be  _ better _ . He didn’t want to go just head-to-head with Hinata; he was going to improve, and he was going to show Hinata that he was just as good as a middle blocker as he was, even if he didn’t have crazy, surreal jumps and freakish athleticism to make up for it. This training camp was supposed to help with that. 

Except that was ruined, now that Hinata was attending the training camp too, and Kei wanted nothing more than to make him leave.

“It’s not that!” Hinata protested, but Kei wasn’t about to listen to fumbled excuses. “Shittyshima—”

“Don’t think you can just call me that when  _ you’re  _ the one who’s fucking up,” Kei snapped, taking relish in the shut-off look that flashed across Hinata’s face; the relish is gone when the look’s wiped with one of grim determination, and Kei knew that he was in for one of the idiot’s speeches He wished he had his headphones with him so he could wear them and shut him out.

“The coaches already chewed me out and they told me I could stay,” Hinata said, surging forward so that he’s nearly eye-level below Kei’s neck. Kei glowers down at him, to no effect. “So I’m staying. I’m only going to be a ball boy, but I’ll be here, and that’s  _ not _ going to change.”

Kei hated how Hinata was able to stand his ground so firmly, even in the face of everybody else’s rejection of his presence. He would never admit that a small part of him even admired him for it; Kei would never have done what Hinata was doing if he were in his shoes, and while Kei thought of that as being sensible, Kei had gone through enough now to know that playing it safe rarely would pay him back as much as taking a risk would.

Maybe that was why Hinata was doing this.

“Fine,” Kei said through gritted teeth. He pretended not to see the way Hinata’s eyes brighten, like Kei’s words meant more to him than they even should’ve, in the first place.  _ Idiot _ . “This conversation is offer.”

The look morphed into one of confusion, but Kei was already walking out the door—it wouldn’t do for them to be together in the broom closet for too long, considering they were surrounded by other teenage boys who seemed to be fond of drawing their own conclusions, and Kei had enough on his plate not to need ‘dating rumors with Hinata Shouyou’ added onto it—before Hinata could really comprehend what he was saying.

“Woah, you gave that up surprisingly easily, Meanieshima!” Hinata chirped, a far-off voice from behind him, and Kei was proud enough of his show of self-restraint that stopped him from going back and yelling at him all over again.

Being angry was  _ not _ cool, Kei reasons, and he’d already lost his cool enough today that he didn’t need to blow his fuse all over again.

* * *

The idiot wasn’t eating.

Kei hadn’t meant to notice this, but it was one of the things that he couldn’t  _ un _ -notice, once he had. It was the second day of the training camp, and right after everyone had finished their meals, Kei noticed a distinct lack of Hinata Shouyou’s shouting-while-scarfing-food-down-his-throat noises. A cursory glance around the room revealed that the orange-head wasn’t there at all, and by the end of the day’s camp, Kei realized Hinata hadn’t eaten that day during the entire camp at all.

He shouldn’t care.

Kei should’ve taken this information at face value, shrugged, and went on his way home; after all, Hinata wasn’t dead and he hadn’t collapsed, so it wasn’t like he was in immediate danger. That was the sensible thing to do. It was the Kei Tsukishima thing to do, at least, and Kei knew on any other regular occasion, that’s exactly what he would’ve done.

Except maybe Kei wasn’t feeling okay today, and had to check later at home if he had a fever, because instead of doing all the regular things, he’d cornered Hinata after the day’s practice was over, only once Hinata and the other ball boys had finished helping clean up the gymnasium.

“Hey, shrimpy,” Kei called, taking vindictive joy in the tic that flashed on Hinata’s temple at the nickname. “Did you eat anything today?”

He tried his best not to sound like he cared. 

Kei must’ve failed, though, because instead of answering his question with a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ like any other normal person, Hinata actually  _ jumped _ into the air, sparkles practically appearing all around him.

“Aw, Tsukishima!  _ Softie _ shima! You  _ do _ care!”

“Shut up,” Kei snarled, and it had none of its intended effect, considering Hinata continued bouncing around in joy in his place. “I’m going home,” he announced, because this wasn’t worth it and he still didn’t know what’d even posessed him to ask that—had a charitable ghost took over his body for a moment?—and started to walk home.

At least, he would’ve started to walk home, if not for the sudden weight of his back that must’ve been Hinata, gushing about how glad he was to know that undereneath his prickly exterior, Kei ‘wasn’t actually Satan’s incarnate’ after all.

“So, what are we going to eat?”

“What makes you think  _ we’re _ going out to eat?”

Hinata’s steps paused, and he looked at Kei with one of his uncharacteristically quiet, serious stares, and the sight of that is enough to leave Kei faltering. “You seemed like you were actually worried, Tsukki! I guess you’re not-so-Shitty(shima) after all, right? Come on, there’s a place I like to stop by on my way home!”

Kei didn’t let himself be tugged by Hinata, shoving both his hands deep into the pockets of his winter jacket. He followed Hinata, anyway, trying his best not to think too hard about  _ why _ he was going along with this at all. Kei could’ve said no and gone the other way, beecause his house was in the opposite direction—he could’ve just ditched Hinata, easy as that, but his mind and feet refuse to cooperate, and he’s left following behind Hinata anyway, later on even going so far as to  _ share a meal _ with him at a beef bowl restaurant they’d passed.

Kei refused to dwell on it, even when a nagging voice in his head continued to taunt him, singing, off-key, nonsensical songs on how Kei Tsukishima was getting soft.

* * *

Absolutely nobody saw it coming when the day after, Kei took an extra slice of banana bread from the cafeteria at lunch; while taking seconds wasn’t an uncommon sight for the other players, Kei was one of the ones who’d created an odd reputation for himself as a sports player who ate  _ reasonable _ , smaller, normal portions instead of going for seconds and thirds like the others did. That was why the move garnered raised brows and confused stares, especially when Kei didn’t even touch it at all during lunch, instead taking it with him when he was walking back to the court.

The looks of confusion turned into that of gob-smacked surprise when they saw Kei hand off the wrapped slice of bread to Hinata, who was equally as confused as surprised as those staring at the interaction from afar. 

When Koganegawa tried asking Kei, though, all he received was a chilling stare. (The matter was dropped, and soon the others forgot—but not Hinata, despite Kei’s blatant, continued refusal to answer him  _ why _ .)

* * *

Their first practice without the third years was disconcertingly odd, even to Kei, who was never a sentimental person. 

If Kei counted middle school experience, this wouldn’t even be the first time he had sports practice with graduated upperclassmen: The same thing happened back in middle school, and Kei never felt any sadness, not even the smallest flicker. Somehow, it was different this time around, and while Kei wasn’t crying—unlike Hinata, whose eyes were glassy, even as he tried to cover them up—there was a melancholy of sorts settling in his chest, unlikely to go away even as Kei tried to will it off with sheer stubbornness.

“It’s pretty weird not to have Daichi-san yelling orders at us, huh, Tsukki?” Yamaguchi asked after they were finished with their stretches, led by the new, still-green-at-captaining Ennoshita. 

Kei shrugged. “I guess,” he admitted.

Yamaguchi opened his mouth, presumably to say something about how cool Kei was being, but his attention shifted to where Hinata was oddly silent, even when it was obvious Kageyama was trying to rile him up. The two idiots’ way of friendship was something Kei thought he’d never understand. 

“I did ten more push-ups than you did!” Kageyama shouted, not even in a bragging way. He was yelling expectantly, obviously waiting for a reaction from Hinata, whether that’d come in the form of an all-out shouting match (Kei wished they were allowed to wear headphones during practice) or Hinata trying to do an extra  _ twenty _ push-ups to outdo Kageyama, even when they were done with warm-ups.

“Huh?” Hinata said instead, and if that wasn’t a red flag, Kei wouldn’t know what was. Even Yamaguchi was concerned, his expression morphed into one of barely concealed worry. It was the same look Yamaguchi wore whenever Kei had his off days, and Yamaguchi never knew what to do to help. “O-oh, right! I’ll definitely do five more than you, Bakageyama!”

Kei and Yamaguchi cringed in unison, because if  _ that _ didn’t sound fake, they didn’t know what was. Even Kageyama, dense as he was to anything that wasn’t volleyball, was looking off-put, peering at Hinata like he’d just said he was going to quit volleyball.

(Later, if asked, Kei would say he’d only stepped in because Hinata was being utterly  _ pathetic _ that it hurt to watch. It definitely was  _ not _ because Kei cared about the orange-haired idiot in any shape of form.)

“Hey, shrimpy,” Kei called, plastering on his most haughty, ‘I know something that you don’t’ smirk. It was reminiscent to the ones he would’ve usually put on during the beginnings of their acquaintanceship, all those months ago when they were just starting off in the volleyball team—when they weren’t yet teammates, not in anything but name, anyway. Hinata snapped into alert, shoulders stiffening, looking at Kei with a look that was simultaneously curious and affronted (most likely from the nickname). 

Kei Tsukishima was a man with a plan. At least, he  _ usually _ was, and it was only when Hinata kept looking at him with an expectant glance that Kei realized his specialties were in offending people,or riling them up— not making them feel better. But maybe normalcy was exactly what Hinata needed, when faced with something foreign; so Kei took a look at him, and eyes latching onto something, Kei’s mouth moved before he even thought twice about what could be the right thing to say.

“Your shirt’s on backwards,” Kei pointed out, and snickered, covering the lower half of his face with his hand. Yamaguchi snickered, too, exclaiming a “Nice, Tsukki!” even as Hinata spluttered while checking down at his shirt—which was, predictably, inside-out. 

“Huh?!” Hinata shrieked, the tips of his ears blushing red with embarrassment. Kei didn’t even feel bad, not when it snapped Hinata out of his funk, like reigniting a fire that’d been extinguished. “You didn’t have to yell it, Tsukishima!”

“I wasn’t yelling,  _ you’re _ the one yelling,” Kei pointed out, Hinata shrieking even louder at that. Kei rolled his eyes, and pretended he couldn’t see Yamaguchi’s knowing look, not even when Yamaguchi’s smile told Kei all about what he was really thinking.

_ I’m not getting soft, _ Kei thought with a glare, and if him and Yamaguchi  _ could _ communicate non-verbally, this would’ve been the moment for Yamaguchi to realize he was wrong with his stupid, knowing looks, because Kei wasn’t going soft—had it been Kageyama moping around (unlikely), Kei would’ve ignored him, and went about with his day.

But it wasn’t Kageyama. It was Hinata, and while Kei usually wouldn’t have bothered, maybe sometime during the days they shared at their training camp,  _ some _ part of him had managed to settle somewhere in the crevices of Kei’s heart—which sounded  _ sappy _ and  _ lame _ and totally  _ uncool _ , but Kei didn’t know what other explanation there was. Not that he was going to tell that to anyone, ever. If Yamaguchi ever heard of this, Kei knew he’d never have another peaceful day in his life ever again.

(There was, after all, a reason why him and Yamaguchi got along as well as they did. Yamaguchi might not have Kei’s acerbic snark, but around Kei especially, he had his moments when he could match Kei’s own snark and sarcasm.)

“You’re such a jerk! Jerkyshima!”

“At least I’m not wearing my shirt inside-out.”

* * *

They didn’t make it.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, nor should it have come as a hard blow. The Kei from a year ago wouldn’t have cared so much, wouldn’t have felt a sob choking on his throat and all his words die on his tongue the moment the referee declared their match was over, that they wouldn’t be going to nationals this year because their ticket, the one they’d tried grasping with all their might, had slipped through the cracks of their fingers and into Date Tech’s waiting hands. 

Something had shifted, this Kei knew; Kei knew he cared too much about volleyball now, enough that this wasn’t just a club to him anymore. He wanted the chance to go to nationals again more than he let the others see, and knowing that they wouldn’t get the chance now  _ hurt _ . There was always next year, Kei knew, but it didn’t make the loss much easier to ebb; to cope with.

He wasn’t surprised when he found Hinata in the bathroom, hands gripping the sink; the running water was doing well to hide his choked sobs, though nothing could hide the trembling of his shoulders, and the way his fingers shook in their stead.

“Hey,” Kei found himself saying, voice hoarser than he’d expected. It came from swallowing down too many bubbled sobs, because Kei had changed, but he hadn’t changed enough he would’ve let others see him cry so openly. 

Maybe it was the freshness of their loss, dulling Kei’s sharp edges and lowering both his and Hinata’s defenses. Maybe it was something else, tugging Kei to move, to put a hand on Hinata’s shoulder while he knew he could’ve just left Hinata to mourn on his own, and moved into an empty stall to be sad on his own. Whatever was pushing him, Hinata disregarded Kei’s hand on his shoulder to instead curl his arms tightly around Kei’s middle, head tilted down from where it buried itself into Kei’s chest, sobs and heaves racking through his tiny body.

Kei could feel his shirt going wet, fresh tears mixed with the sweat that’d already clung close to the fabric; instead of pushing Hinata away, though, he stiffened only for a moment before hugging Hinata back, allowing the smaller boy to settle further into Kei’s warmth. They stood like that for what felt like an eternity that lasted far too short, only breaking away from each other when they heard the tell-tale creak of the door opening. Hinata  _ leapt _ away from Kei, like he’d just realized what he’d done, and Kei wasn’t better off, abruptly looking away from Hinata and focusing on looking on his hands, ignoring the heat that threatened to break across the spots of his skin.

“…Thanks, Softieshima,” Hinata muttered, after the silence between them grew more awkward than comfortable.

Kei didn’t know how to respond to that, nor did he know how to say that he wasn’t planning on providing daily heart-to-hearts for Hinata. Still, despite Kei’s amateur people skills (which was what occurred when the only person he regularly interacted with, non-antagonistically, was Yamaguchi), even  _ he _ knew that this wasn’t a situation where he was supposed to be antagonistic, to rub salt in Hinata’s wound. (Technically, it wasn’t even  _ only _ Hinata’s wound, considering Kei was hurting from their loss, too.)

“Not a word to anyone else,” Kei said, giving Hinata a glare he didn’t mean.

Hinata grinned, wobbly at the edges and eyes red-rimmed, but genuine and bright all the same. Hinata looked like the sun, and Kei realized that there was a great deal of things he would do to keep Hinata’s light from dying out.

* * *

When Tsukishima was elected as captain, everyone expected him to take Kageyama as his vice-captain, or maybe even Yamaguchi; there hadn’t even been much of a discussion Ukai was prepared to have, considering everything—that was why it came as a surprise when Kei named Hinata, of all people, as his vice captain.

“Huh?!” Hinata himself was surprised when Kei brought it up, eyes widening into saucers. “Me? Why?”

Kei resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose, to take it back and name Yamaguchi as his vice captain instead because it was just  _ easier _ . He didn’t, because Hinata felt like the only right choice, but it was close. “I’m not good at raising everyone’s morales like you are,” Kei admitted, grudgingly like the words had been forcefully pushed out of his mouth. “I can strategize. I can help guide the team and train them. But I’m not good at getting people’s spirits up.”

“But…”

“Do you want the position or not? If you don’t, I’ll pass on the captain’s title to Yamaguchi.”

At this, Hinata’s eyes widened even more, and he leaned forward to peer closely at Kei. He was close enough that their noses almost touched, and Kei had to take a step back. “You mean you won’t be captain unless I’m your vice-captain?”

“So you _can_ be sharp,” Kei said, and Hinata didn’t even blink. “I’m just being logical, don’t think too hard about it.”

He was. Kei really was just being logical, there was no ulterior motive behind his choice: Kei wanted the team to reach new heights under his leadership, wanted them to  _ excel _ , because Kei refused to be associated with anything half-assed—and he refused to do anything only halfway when he had access to the controls. 

Just as Kei was aware of his own strengths, he knew enough about his own shortcomings as well; and while it wasn’t something he liked to admit, he knew he wouldn’t be able to raise people’s morales like Suga did, or even Nishinoya and Tanaka. The only person in their year who had that ability was Hinata, and getting everyone’s spirits was an integral part of Karasuno’s team play.

Kei Tsukishima was the moon, guarding the sky at its darkest, existing as Karasuno’s silent, unexpected protector; but Hinata Shouyou was the sun, the light and fire needed to liven the sky after the night had passed. One wouldn’t be able to unleash its full potential without the other, and Kei had every intention of taking the sun under his wing, and to protect it with his shadow, letting it heal and recuperate, whenever the sun got too close to losing its fume. 

The moon, after all, protected the sun to keep its rays from dying out.

**Author's Note:**

> talk to me on [twt](https://twitter.com/jinorrah) if you'd like! pls leave a comment if u enjoyed it heheheh thank you for reading! :D


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